Loki in Love
by Myrielle
Summary: Sif has to marry and Loki is in denial. As her best friend though, he feels obliged to help her. What better way than to marry her himself? If only Thor would stop trying to help…
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to Marvel. Not done for profit either.

Summary: Sif has to marry and Loki is in denial. As her best friend though, he feels obliged to help her. What better way than to marry her himself? If only Thor would stop trying to help…

**LOKI IN LOVE**

**I.**

It had all started a week ago. And like all misfortunes in his life, it was linked with his older brother. On Midgard, they named it Thursday, another version of Thor's Day. Well, on that blighted and miserable Thor's Day— which he had actually thought of as glorious before the pall had settled—Sif had invaded his gardens and ruined everything.

Well, to be fair, he had told her before that she would always be welcomed to his inner sanctum. She and she alone, apart from his dear mother, knew the magic word to get the briars to part and the maze to straighten its path. His lips lifted in the barest of smiles when he recalled leaving Thor there for hours to tramp around, yelling for Loki to release him. 'As though I had been the one who encouraged him to thieve from another's garden.' Still, when Father had found out, he had been punished. He had been made to give Thor the roses, never mind that this particular rose bush from Alfheim only flowered once every five hundred years. They had been children but even then he had trembled with outrage at the unfairness of it all.

But then Sif had come in the middle of the night. Loki could still recall waking to small but strong hands shaking him awake, a soft palm covering his mouth to stifle his shout, for at that time he had been convinced a family of Jotuns had secretly taken up residence under his bed and no amount of wards he placed there could evict them.

"Hush, Loki."

"Sif, the sentence for murdering a prince of the realm is death."

"Are you insinuating that Prince Loki is feeble enough to die of fright in his own bed?"

"Of course not. Now explain your presence here at this late hour."

Her brown eyes sparkled, lit by the faint glow of the night lamps he insisted on keeping next to his bedside. "Close your eyes."

"Sif, if this is a trick, I swear…"

"If you find whatever I'm about to do displeasing, I'll let you turn my hair blue."

Disgruntled, Loki glared at her before doing as he had been ordered. They both knew he would never do that, not after his last mistake. Sif was not as clever as he was but she was far from stupid either. That was one of the reasons why she was his friend. The mystery was why someone of her relative intelligence would actually choose to keep company with Thor. Loki had a legitimate excuse; Thor was family. He could not get rid of his older brother even if he tried…

Something soft touched his lips and Loki gasped. For a moment, Sif's smiling mouth came to mind, even as his eyes flew open and then he had to blink. Hard. Twice in fact, to assure himself that this was no dream. For in Sif's hand was a single white rose, its petals edged with shimmering light which it shed the way butterflies do the beautiful powder that lay upon their delicate wings.

"How did you…?" His fingers reached for it and she met him halfway, relinquishing the treasure easily.

She sighed dramatically. "I did the unthinkable."

Immediately, he sat up straighter and pinned her with his sharp emerald gaze. "What did Thor want?" Actually, there was only one thing Thor ever wanted from Sif: a chance to beat her in the practice ring. She, apart from Fandral, was the only one of their peers to ever hold her own against him. That she was a girl was an especial sore point for Thor and one of great pride for Loki. It was the factor that made him take her side at once when he had first seen them sparring. More than most, Loki knew what it was like to be the underdog, the one expected to lose.

"Nothing, silly. He couldn't wait to give the roses away to Sinthgunt and Sunna. Not at the same time of course."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Sisters, this time. Whatever is my brother thinking? Not that I really wish to find out. So how did you get it away from him?"

Sif touched a delicate petal before dipping a finger beneath the rose, catching silvery pearls of light that glimmered before vanishing. "I had to bat my eyelashes," she admitted with a small scowl. "Don't you dare laugh!" Before he could stop her, she jabbed him in the arm. "I had to pout too. I had to act like a…" She stopped, distaste written all over her twelve-year old face.

Loki's smile was radiant. "Girl. But what a fine girl you are, the best in all the realm." He pushed the rose towards her. "Thank you."

Sif's eyes widened. "Oh no, Loki! I couldn't. I took it back for you!"

"And I am free to give what is mine. At least, I would like to when I can," he corrected bitterly, the embers of his fury beginning to catch fire again.

Her hand encircled his wrist, pulling him away from dark thoughts. "I thought we could replant it."

"And what makes you think I can join back that which has been severed from the parent plant?"

"Because the flowers in your garden never die, nor do the leaves drop. There is magic enough in you, Master Enchanter, to keep this rose alive for its season." Strong fingers tugged him up and Loki forgot all about the fact that both of them were in their bedclothes and were flouting palace curfew. All that mattered was the soft approval and admiration in Sif's eyes. That, and a small midnight adventure.

When he surfaced from his memories, Loki scowled before sighing deeply, rubbing a hand over his brow and tired eyes. The drapes in his room were completely shut, the lights extinguished. But even here in the cool shadows, Sif found him, even if it was only her memory. He had not seen her since that day when she had dropped her news on his head. She might as well have dropped a cliff of ice from Jotunheim while she had been at it.

"I am to marry."

They had been seated side by side beneath the shade of an ancient tree, shoulders almost touching. He had been idly threading his fingers through the grass when she made her announcement. His hands had involuntarily clenched and Loki felt the slight echo of pain from the garden as the delicate green blades broke. His brilliant mind, which he prided himself on, went blank.

"You are to marry?" he echoed stupidly.

"Yes, before this year is out. My parents grow impatient and my father has decided that it must be now. I've put them off before but…" Her voice trailed off and she looked at him. He could not meet her gaze. There was an invisible hand twisting the sinews of his chest. It was hard to breathe. "If I do not choose, they will make the choice for me."

"Have you someone in mind?" he asked, making a mighty effort to keep his voice light and steady.

"No!" she cried indignantly. "Hence the problem. All my life I have only wanted to be a warrior, not a wife. The men I am most fond of are the ones I keep company with but I can scarcely imagine being betrothed to Fandral, Hogun or Volstagg." She shuddered, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"And Thor?"

In the silence that passed between them, one could have dropped a pin on a bed of flowers and still heard the sound it would make. "A prince of the realm is above my touch," she finally replied.

The resignation in her voice pierced his heart. Suddenly, Loki was furious, blindingly and breathtakingly so. She thought so little of him that she had not even mentioned his name. And she wanted Thor!

"She wants Thor," he murmured and felt his head ache again. Or was it his heart? He kept it so carefully wrapped away, hidden from all except those he trusted and even then, he never showed them more than he wanted. It seemed a stranger to him now.

He had lost his passion for his experiments. The new books on enchanted smithing from the Dvergar went unread, and not for want of trying either. Meal times in the great hall were unwelcomed events, especially when Sif was there. And now he found himself increasingly resentful of the sight of the eager warriors that jostled each other for her attention. All of whom Sif had thrashed at one time or another in the practice ring.

"Fine, let her choose a husband she can bend to her will, if not with her double-edged spear," he sneered spitefully. "Married life will be easier to bear then. She can be the brains and her husband the brawn." Except that with Sif, she had both intelligence and breathtaking physical prowess. Loki had never sparred with her in the ring. Instead she had coached him, trained with him when it became clear that as the second prince of Asgard, he was expected to participate in the mock fights. "Magic can only take you so far, brother," Thor had boomed before proceeding to humble Loki in front of half the realm's warriors.

Once the healers had been done putting him back together, Loki had tried not to limp too obviously back to his rooms. He could have teleported, but the physical effort to conjure that amount of magic was too much at that moment. Sif had been waiting for him in his rooms, a small mountain of books about sparring beside her on his table.

"I am not in the mood," he scoffed, glaring at her out of frustration. He hated feeling so helpless, so belittled and the thought that this would become a weekly affair made his stomach turn cold with dread. "Such violence and petty shows of strength are below me. I am a sorcerer, not a warrior."

Sif refused to go away, even after those insults. "But your brother is right. Magic will provide only some measure of protection or offense in combat. Thor was trying to make that clear to you."

"By beating me into the ground?" At least Sif had the good grace to wince.

"Thor has never been the most subtle of persons. I think he hoped to convince you to take the practice sessions more seriously."

"He is failing."

He had earned himself the nickname of Silver Tongue by then. There were many he could deceive. Sif was always one of the few who never fell for his deceptions. Well, almost never. But on that occasion, she read him like an open book.

"Nay." Earnest brown eyes gazed up into his as she came to sit by his side. "I fear he is succeeding, but not in the way he intends to." He flinched as she lifted a hand. He knew his face was cut and Sif was merely being affectionate but he was too sore, too bruised, too damned angry with her for defending his brother to be touched. Hurt flickered over her face; Thor was always a source of contention between them. "Let me help you. We can spar together."

"So all of Asgard may see you beat me into the ground?" he snapped. "No thank you. You need not equal Thor on that scale."

"Loki Odinson, I would never humiliate you!" She stood up then, towering over him, beautiful and furious. "I only wanted you to be better prepared when you next face him. I know Thor, I know how he fights, I know what it feels like—"

She drew in a deep breath and calmed herself. "These books are from my personal library. If you have no use of them, send them back to my home."

And as much as he wanted to see her go, he could not. Not when he knew his words had gone too deep and too far. Her hand was on the door when he forced himself to speak.

"When shall we begin?" It felt like a second defeat, for he genuinely hated sparring. In Asgard, he was something of an anomaly. Instead of the muscular girth of his father and brother, he was tall and slender, quick rather than strong. It was one of many reasons why Father was so disappointed in him, and in his secret heart, why Loki was also disappointed with himself. He had rebelled by skipping as many lessons as possible and focusing on his magic. Let Thor have the swords, he had his books. The difference was clear and set in stone. Now he was going to have to undo all of that and Loki was afraid he was setting himself up for failure. No one could best Thor, not even Sif, now that his older brother was growing in strength and into manhood.

Still, when she smiled at him like that, when she accepted his version of an apology, it went a long way to soothing his battered pride. "In your gardens, two mornings from today. I'll bring the weapons."

She had no need for weapons, not when she could disarm him without even trying. "By Yggdrasil, can I not get the woman out of my head?" With a snarl he sprang up from the chair and began pacing the ground. What was wrong with him? Where was his legendary control? All magic began in the mind, a desire made coherent by the shaping of thought, the birth of emotion into vision and it was far too easy for a spell to go awry without mental discipline. And in spite of his best intentions, all Loki could think about was Sif. Sif was a plague, a sickness eating away at him. There had to be some spell to undo this. Maybe someone had cast a spell on him and he knew it not. The thought was horrifying, but it would explain why he felt as though he was losing his mind.

"Brother!"

"Speaking of losing my mind," he muttered. Thor never knocked. Instead, he yelled out a greeting and would burst into a person's room, having announced his presence by way of said greeting. "Three, two…"

The doors to his chambers swung open with such force that one would have thought them crafted of wood instead of gold. "Loki, how can you even see in this darkness?"

His night-vision was superb, unrivalled by any other in Asgard. It was a point that had been made many times, especially when Father had decided he was capable enough to be sent on missions. Loki could not fathom why Thor insisted on asking the obvious again and again. He winced as his older brother, without asking for permission, pulled back the drapes and let in swathes of blinding sunlight. "Ouch…"

"You are hiding." Thor picked an apple from the woefully neglected bowl of fruit sitting on his desk and crunched into it enthusiastically.

"Did it ever occur to you that it might be from, oh, maybe you?"

Blue eyes twinkled merrily. "It might have, if my name were Sif."

Uh oh. Now his brother decided to grow a brain. "Thankfully it isn't. The warriors would be confused as to whose skirts they ought to be chasing after." Loki ducked as the half-eaten apple flew at his head. "Sloppy, sloppy," he mocked. "Perhaps a round or two with Volstagg will improve your reflexes."

"Sheath your claws and stop trying to be rid of me. We have all noticed your absence and Mother is convinced it has to do with Sif."

There was a true God after all, one who did not need golden apples for immortality. So it was Mother who was responsible, not some newfound intelligence of Thor's.

"I thought it foolish thinking on my part but when she approached me to speak with you, I am now more convinced than ever that the news of Sif's impending marriage has upset you."

Or maybe he had been a little too quick to conclude there was a true God— "Wait. Did you say impending marriage?" Loki stopped pacing and spun around to face Thor who was now fishing about for the cherries. "She has already set a date?" Suddenly, the room seemed to be closing in on him.

"Do not sound so aghast, Loki. She has not even chosen a husband," Thor announced smugly. "I must say though, I've never seen your face turn that shade of purple. It looks rather fetching."

"Mock me again and you will look 'fetching' for the next month or so."

Thor laughed, which only served to irritate Loki further. "So, it is true then."

"If you want a proper answer, Thor, try asking a question first."

"Are you hiding because Sif has to choose a husband?"

"I am not hiding. But if I say yes, will you go away?"

Loki expected Thor to laugh uproariously, which would be his cue to vanish and spend the rest of the day or days, depending on how horrible he felt, in his gardens. Instead, his brother's face softened, gentled with something akin to sympathy. Living with Thor was unpredictable. Thor bullied, demanded, overshadowed everyone without a thought because as heir to the throne, he believed he was entitled to do so. Yet he was the one who argued in favour of Loki being sent on missions, had stressed the importance of having a sorcerer and skilled diplomat by his side, had taken the blame for the worst of Loki's mischiefs and the subsequent punishments. Just when Loki thought he hated his brother, he found that he loved him after all.

"What troubles you? Do you fear you will lose her as a friend once she is wife to another?"

The thought of sitting down to Sif's wedding banquet made him feel ill. And Loki steadfastly refused to let himself consider what would happen once the feast was over and the guests had gone. One did not think about one's friend in such a fashion. That would be improper, or so he told himself.

"Well, she can hardly be allowed to visit my gardens alone without her husband acting as a chaperone and where would be the fun in that." Loki clasped his hands behind his back and resumed his pacing. Hopefully Thor would be satisfied with that because that was the only reason Loki would allow himself to consider. "So yes, our friendship would be affected, to some degree."

"Sif is my friend too but I do not find myself affected so much that I am compelled to miss my meals."

"Nothing short of Ragnarok would cause you to miss a meal, Brother."

"Have a care Loki. The next thing I throw at you might be Mjolnir."

"Do you remember the first and, coincidentally, the last time you did that? Perhaps this time I will teleport your mighty hammer to the wilds of Nilfheim. I assure you, it will take more than two days before it returns to your hand."

"You have a point there. So, all that ails you is the prospect of your friendship being affected?"

How could Thor understand? Sif was but one of the many companions he had. Thor was the God of Thunder, the king to be. He was all an Asgardian should be and though he was far from perfect, he was loved by all and worshipped by most. Loki knew he was not like Thor. It was harder for him to trust, he measured out the affection he gave and that did not come easily. Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg were amiable enough. But it was Sif to whom he spoke, Sif who remained by his side in battle, Sif who soothed his temper with a word or two but was not afraid of taking him head on when she felt he was wrong. She was, for all intents and purposes, his only friend. "Yes," Loki forced himself to reply. The word felt like dust in his mouth.

"You do not love her?"

If Thor had hit him with Mjolnir, it would have made less of an impact than that simple question. Somewhere inside, he started falling to pieces as the pieces began falling into place.

"No! Are you daft?"

"Perhaps I ought to be asking you that."

Loki walked towards the windows, eager to put distance between him and Thor. He could feel his brother's eyes on him and schooled his face into an impassive mask, praying his reflection in the glass would not give anything away. "I am not in love with Sif. She is but a friend." Liar. It was a good thing Thor could not read minds.

"You are certain?"

"Yes," Loki all but hissed. "Now cease your prying. I am beginning to suspect you are here not to check on my wellbeing but to play matchmaker."

That was true. Frigga had instructed him to help his usually brilliant brother see what was as clear as day to everyone else, at least those within their inner circle. Thor was not going to admit that though. "Sif is a good woman. I simply want her to have the best to choose from."

…_A prince of the realm is above my touch…_

"Then offer for her yourself," Loki retorted and proved himself wrong because, no, saying that to Thor did not kill him. Maybe a dip in the lakes of fire on Muspelheim would have been more painful though. Marginally.

"Offer for Sif?" Thor snorted and Loki considered rearranging his brother's face, both with his fists and magic, the latter before the former of course. "Don't be ridiculous. I care for her but I love her not."

"Well then, she will have to settle for second choice." He hoped none of the relief he felt seeped into his voice. He was a selfish bastard, Loki thought sadly, for he felt more joy for his own sake than sadness for Sif.

"If her second choice is Fandral, she will not do very badly."

"Fandral?"

"There is no need to shout. He is a fine warrior from a glorious line. Her children will be strong and formidable, a credit to Asgard."

Loki did not want to think about how Sif was going to beget children with Fandral. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to lower his voice. "She does not feel for him, she told me so herself."

"Perhaps that is because he has never wooed her. She might see him with new eyes should he begin his pursuit."

If anyone was going to need new eyes, it would be Fandral if he so much as stepped in Sif's direction. "The man is a flirt. He will not remain faithful for long."

"Perhaps Sif will be the woman to tame him."

"What use is a husband if one has to put him on a leash?"

"I did not say she would marry him. Maybe Forseti—"

"Our nephew?"

This time, Loki's shout did echo past his chambers and into the passageways of the palace. Somewhere in her rooms, Frigga smiled serenely and went back to her stitching. Thor, as she expected, was doing wonderfully. With any luck, their plan would work.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to Marvel. Not done for profit either.

Summary: Sif has to marry and Loki is in denial. As her best friend though, he feels obliged to help her. What better way than to marry her himself? If only Thor would stop trying to help…

_A/N:_ _Hey everyone, thanks for the lovely reviews! It was so great to hear from you, extremely encouraging too. This second chapter is for you, from the Muse. :) I hope you enjoy it.  
_

**LOKI IN LOVE**

**II.**

In a hundred other universes, this one moment happens differently. Sometimes the dark-haired, green-eyed boy takes the left turn down the corridor, instead of the right. Sometimes he walks a little too quickly, or too slowly. And so he never sees her as she is, as the other side of him, and they grow up and never recognize each other for the rest of their lives.

On a dozen different worlds, seven-year-old Sif is far too well hidden at the end of the great balcony overlooking the city of Asgard. In one, she slips over the edge before the boy can catch her wrist and he watches in horror as she falls to her death, taking the best part of his life with her although he will never know it.

But in this world, in this particular version amongst a multitudinous sea of versions, he takes the right turn, walks at the right speed and she sits there, silhouetted against the crimson evening sun and it is impossible to miss the fiery glow of her hair, or the tears that streak her cheeks as she leans against a pillar. She looks, Loki thinks as he stops and stares, like a golden, miniature Valkyrie. Except that those warriors never cry. Intrigued, Loki sneaks forward on silent booted feet. He knows enough magic to muffle his footsteps, to hide the sound of his breathing. He knows a little about invisibility but it would be ridiculous to render only half of himself unseen; he might frighten the girl to death.

Loki feels smug as he sidles around the pillar, just within arm's length of her. She is busy wiping her tears away and he thinks she has no idea that he is there. It's not until a hand grabs on to his sleeve that Loki realises he might have walked into a trap.

Her eyes are still wet but fierce. She might be shorter than him but Loki finds himself getting nervous because this girl might actually be able to do what all the other boys can do, which is to beat him in a fight. So he does the first thing that comes to mind. Faster than she can react, he reaches out, catches a tear in mid-fall and holds it up for her to see. Except that it is no longer a tear, for between his forefinger and thumb lies a tiny diamond that sparkles like the heart of a star.

Her jaw drops open and those eyes, so deep and dark they remind him of onyx, widen. She has impossibly long lashes, he notices. "How did you do that?" She does not release him but her grip loosens even as her other hand reaches for the gem. "It's beautiful!"

'Yes,' Loki thinks as he gazes at her. 'It is.'

* * *

She had not seen him for more than a week now. If she thought hard enough about it, Sif knew she could count the exact number of days, hours and minutes since Loki Odinson, second in line to the throne, master sorcerer and more importantly, her best friend and confidante, had been avoiding her.

Loki was angry with her. Sif could not believe it, but it was the only explanation she could think of. His eyes had turned so cold that day. She shivered slightly at the memory, her hand creeping up to press against the diamond she wore on a chain around her neck. As repayment for a favour rendered, a master smith of the dwarves had offered her any weapon produced from his forge. Instead, Sif had asked for an unbreakable chain of fine silver and this she had attached to the diamond. She had almost lost it once in battle and she would never again put herself through such anxiety.

'Perhaps he expects you to fight harder,' she thought miserably. He had encouraged her to pursue a warrior's path, in defiance of society's expectations and her parents' wishes. And likewise, she had stood by him when disapproval had been heaped on his shoulders because he had announced his intention to pursue his studies in magic. Battle, Sif had learnt at an early age, was not always done on the field or in a practice ring. One had to fight for what one wanted. And allies were precious.

Which brought her back to a certain prince who had deserted her in her time of need. She had expected Loki to give advice, maybe even offer a solution out of this quandary she now faced. Instead, she had to suffer the brunt of his anger. 'And what for?' For a husband she had never planned on having. It wasn't as though this was her fault; her father had made it clear he wanted her to get married.

"And it will happen," he had thundered, "even if I have to look beyond Asgard itself."

It had been a dirty threat, for if she married outside of Asgardian society, she would have to leave the realm to reside with her new husband. Away from everything she knew and loved. Oddly enough, her first thoughts had been of Loki and how there would be no more gardens, no more tongue-in-cheek remarks or just sitting and listening to him and Thor bantering while the hearth fires roared.

"Sif…"

She wondered how much trouble he would get into without her by his side. There was only so much Thor could do. And he never figured out what Loki was up to until it was too late.

"Sif…."

At least Loki could more than hold his own in the practice ring now. While he still preferred magic to weapons, no one laughed when his daggers started singing through the air. It was no coincidence either that his weapon for close combat was a spear.

"Sif!"

She jumped at the unmistakable bellow that was Thor's. She was greatly fond of Odin's firstborn and he had, together with Loki, championed her cause. But sometimes, she wished she could lift Mjolnir just to hit him with it on occasions such as these. "What?" she snapped, looking up to see three pairs of amused eyes staring down at her.

"You are moping," Fandral remarked, taking a seat next to her. "You were planets away."

"I wish I were planets away," she muttered.

"We could go to Alfheim," Volstagg suggested, waggling his thick red eyebrows. "I could escort you so that your father would not suspect anything."

"And what would the excuse be? That Sif and you are embarking on a quest to raid the Elf King's kitchens?" Thor laughed.

"For a pot that never empties but produces whatever the owner's heart desires? Surely that will be a worthy quest. Asgard need never fear starvation."

"And the first to benefit would be your own belly," Fandral shot back. "Besides, the Elves may have heard that the famous Lady Sif is available for marriage. Whatever will we do should one of them decide to keep her?"

She would bring back the hide of the impertinent Elf who dared to try holding her against her will as an example to any in the Nine Realms who harboured similar thoughts. Before she could reply, Thor cut in.

"Simple. We tell Loki. He'll bring Sif home, even if he has to fight a world to do so."

She would strangle Loki if he attempted such a feat by himself. But the thought warmed her heart anyway.

"Speaking of Loki, where is he?" Volstagg asked.

"Mother sent for him. She had need of his magical tricks."

Sif frowned. If Loki were present to hear those dismissive words, Thor might find himself the recipient of said magical tricks. Sadly, the elder had never learnt to be more mindful of the younger, not in when it came to this.

"But that is not why we are here. Sif, have you chosen for yourself yet?"

Once again, she found herself the object of their stares. "C-Chosen?" she spluttered, cursing the way her tongue fumbled. "Barely a week has passed and you think I have made a choice already?"

"Have you given it no thought?" Fandral sounded slightly shocked.

"Unlike you, I have no list of attributes and neither have I been dallying with the opposite sex in hopes of adding to said list."

If she had, there would be a lot of Asgardian men suddenly disappearing or finding themselves the victims of highly unpleasant pranks, Thor privately added. As it was, men hardly approached Sif because she was always in their presence. She was a fellow warrior and as beloved as a sister. 'At least to us. The way Loki looks at her can hardly be described as brotherly.' Not that he would tell Loki, of course. Being turned into a frog once was enough for him. He still had occasional nightmares although it had been eons ago.

"Perhaps we might help you? Volstagg suggested with a bright smile as Thor subtly nudged his foot with his boot.

"Excellent suggestion!" Fandral jumped in. "After all, who knows the men of this realm better than us? We know things you ladies are not privy to," he grinned and wagged a finger at Sif who attempted to swat him. "Plus, we will be sure to pick somebody that we like."

"I thought I was the one compelled to marry, not you. If you want my husband-to-be though, he is all yours." Sif rolled her eyes.

"Perish the thought." Fandral shuddered. "Maybe Volstagg will have him."

"I resent that! Give him to Hogun."

"Who is conveniently not present to refuse your generous offer."

"Enough of this!" Thor added a meaningful glare that successfully quelled their bickering. "Sif, perhaps now would be a good time to discuss prospective suitors."

That was the last thing she wanted to do. The thought of submitting to the inevitable never sat well with her and she could feel her palms getting sweaty, something that never happened, not even when she had had to face a fire-breathing dragon. "Perhaps next time."

"But Sif, your parents—"

"Will be able to wait until next week! We can do this then. You do whatever you want to in the meanwhile." And with that, Lady Sif, steadfast companion of the Warriors Three, turned tail and fled.

Seconds later, Hogun sidled in through the entrance, a quiet smile of triumph on his lips. "He's on his way."

Immediately the goblets were pushed aside, all except the one Volstagg managed to rescue. A score of lists were spread out on the table, covering every inch of the surface. Some had names crossed out, others had names that were underlined.

When Loki entered the room, Thor, Volstagg and Fandral were in the midst of a heated argument while Hogun sat in silent disapproval, shaking his head. Thor did not miss the look of horror on Loki's face, followed by pinched disapproval at some of the names tossed about. "Brother! As always, your timing is impeccable. We are choosing Sif's husband!"

* * *

The sound of his footsteps echoed down the hallway. Usually, speaking with his mother always had a soothing effect on his spirits. She knew the right things to say, always directed him to a perspective he never considered and she never lost her temper. He loved being in her presence, mostly because she had never given him reason to doubt that she loved him as much as she did Thor. Unfortunately on this occasion, she had destroyed his peace of mind.

"By the way, have I mentioned your brother's latest project? Thor has taken it upon himself to choose Sif's husband. Apparently Sif has given her permission and Thor is most keen on recommending Forseti—"

He could not even remember what reason he had given to excuse himself from her presence but he was barely out the door before he began cursing Thor under his breath. His brother was like a dog with a bone; he just did not know when to leave well alone. And Sif! Sif had actually let Thor have free rein to ruin her life! Didn't she know what kind of man his brother would choose?

"Forseti! What is wrong with my nephew?" Thor bellowed, trying to outshout Volstagg and Fandral who were clutching lists in their hands and shoving it in his face. "Brother! As always, your timing is impeccable. We are choosing Sif's husband!"

Sif might as well have married herself to a Jotun, for all the good their choice would do her. She might even have more luck closing her eyes and blindly pointing at a crowd of suitors. "I believe we've already crossed our nephew from the list."

"I do not believe that he is too young—"

"He is four hundred years younger than Sif and has barely stepped into manhood. If you insist on pushing him on her, I shall have a word with his mother." Loki smiled inwardly as even the mighty God of Thunder looked somewhat quailed by the thought of facing Forseti's mother. Their sister-in-law had the boy tied to her with apron strings that not even Mjolnir could break. Maybe it had to do with Baldr's passing so soon after their marriage, leaving her nought but a child. Loki still mourned his younger brother's death but he was not above using any means to get Thor to drop this imbecilic idea.

Selecting the empty chair beside Hogun, Loki's eyes skimmed over the lists. "Anvindr? You must be jesting. The man is a boor. And he has had two wives already."

"Exactly why he is in need of one whom he can cherish," Volstagg argued, looked deeply offended.

"One wife died in childbirth and he barely mourned her before he remarried. The second he returned to her father's home because she could give him no heir." Loki glared at the red-haired warrior who shrank back slightly. "Sif will not be the kind of wife he wants." The thought of the warrior goddess confined to a barefoot and pregnant existence was unthinkable.

"What? Are you saying that Sif is incapable of birthing sons?"

If he got any angrier, he would burst a blood vessel. Come to think of it, maybe he should burst Volstagg's blood vessels. The ones in the eyes, maybe. There would be no harm done. His intentions must have shown up on his face because Hogun reached out with a quill and scratched out Anvindr's name.

"How about Hakon?" Fandral suggested quickly. "He is of the same age, more or less. He is a valiant fighter and as famous as Sif in his own right."

"He is always volunteering for missions and quests, returning perpetually injured only to leave on more missions once Eir has healed him. The man will eventually get himself killed one day and leave Sif a widow."

"Erm, she'll be free to choose another husband again then?" Fandral hastily scratched out the name when he found himself the recipient of Loki's icy stare. "Alright, I concede. You have a point there."

"Freyr."

Hogun's suggestion stopped them all dead in their tracks. "Pardon me?" Fandral managed to squeeze out. "The ruler of Alfheim, that Freyr?"

"Freyr, brother of Freyja the beautiful?" Volstagg gaped, although it was hard to tell whether it was because of the brother's prominence or the memory of the sister's loveliness.

"How can you suggest this, Hogun?" Thor frowned and Loki decided to let his older brother handle this one. "Sif is a prize for any in Asgard but a King of the Elves is above even her."

He wanted to say that Sif was not a prize, not a trophy to be bandied on some man's arm but for now, it was wiser to hold his peace. And no, she was not below kings and princes either, not if one truly knew her worth.

"He remembers her, from the one time he came to pay tribute to the All-father. It would be a valuable alliance to bring both our kingdoms closer to each other."

Well, there was really no arguing with that. He could see the wheels turning in Thor, Fandral and Volstagg's heads. Blindsided by Hogun. It was always the ones you thought were harmless. "And you know this how?" he demanded, unable to keep the testiness out of his voice.

Hogun never flinched when he met his gaze directly. "It is reliable information."

"Sif would like it, the idea of an alliance," Fandral murmured. "There could hardly be a service more glorious to render to Asgard."

The tendril of dread that had crept into his heart was now making its way down to his belly. Oh yes, he knew Sif. She would think about it that way if the facts were presented in such a manner.

"He's worshipped on Midgard as some kind of fertility god, isn't he? We don't have to worry about her not being able to give him sons," Volstagg pointed out. Loki made a mental note to turn all the meat that the man put in his mouth into vegetables. Preferably the inedible kind. The inedible bitter kind that gave one rashes all over just from coming into contact with it.

"I do not think Sif would wish to leave us." Just when he thought it was all over, his older brother stepped in to save the day. How like Thor. "I do not want this mentioned to her."

"But Thor—"

"It's even better than being married to your nephew—"

"No more of this," Thor ordered. "And Fandral, I resent that remark about Forseti. Sif is feeling pressured as it is by her parents. I would not have her think the royal family is pushing for a political union with another realm. It would be most unfair. Would it not be, Loki? You know her better than any of us here."

Now was the chance he had been waiting for. "She would most certainly feel obliged to place her kingdom before her own happiness. Perhaps this…role you have taken upon yourselves would best be passed to me. I have some time to spare. I will speak with her about her choice of husband."

"Oh wonderful, that's a burden off us then."

"I was never one for playing matchmaker anyway."

Loki blinked. He looked at Hogun who merely shrugged and proceeded to put the lists away. Something was not quite right but he assumed that it was because Thor had forced his companions into doing this with him.

"Brother, you are certain you wish to do this?"

His smile was genuine, one of the rare ones ever seen. "More certain than anything in my life. Now, if you will excuse me…" He nodded at them and took his leave, secure in the knowledge that Sif's future now rested in the most capable of hands. His.

* * *

Even when they were certain he was out of earshot, they waited a good time before speaking.

"I wonder what Loki will do if he finds out we're all in this together?" Fandral sipped the wine and sighed. He had not dared drink a drop before this. After all, it was not everyday that one attempted to pull one over the God of Mischief.

"I don't wish to think on that," Volstagg shuddered. "I will truly move to another planet should that ever happen."

"I do not believe hiding behind Thor is considered that extensive a move."

"Why you—Meet me in the practice ring later and we'll see who will be doing the hiding!"

"We can't use the practice ring. There's no room there for you to hide," Fandral teased. While Volstagg turned red and groped for a suitable comeback, the swordsman turned his attention to Hogun. "That was a good one, suggesting Freyr. Unexpected though since it wasn't part of the plan."

"It is not a part of the plan. It is a truth."

It was not everyday that Fandral's mouth dropped open like that but today was such a day.

"You were serious!" Volstagg exclaimed. "The King of Alfheim fancies our Sif?"

Hogun glanced at Thor. "It will not be long before he hears of her parents' decree that she be married."

And when that happened, Odin would think twice about refusing such an offer. It would be an unimaginable slight, especially if there was no counter offer from another of equal standing. And even then, the political ramifications might lead Odin to consider passing over his own son in favour of the King. Either way, Loki would never forgive his father for giving away the woman he loved.

"Then we shall have to move faster. And pray that it all works out." In the meantime, he would speak to his mother, just in case. If there was one person who could sway the All-father, it would be her.


End file.
